4

It was the girl who spoke first, rather to herself, but she spoke. Sanya couldn’t comprehend much, the words that left the girl’s mouth were nothing but fragile whimpers. Then, she seemed to finally acknowledge Sanya, looking up to her and saying in a surprisingly calm voice: “Did you also lose someone?”

Sanya hesitated. “Who did you lose?” The sniffles subsided. “My dog. He was fourteen. Two years older than me”, the girl said, her voice thin and shaky, “I miss him so much.” Sanya felt tears swelling up in her eyes. The girl’s melancholy was contagious. “I’m so sorry. I know how you feel.”

The child nodded subtly and turned her head to look at the sea again. Silvery blue; the sun was about to rise above the hills that adorned the horizon. Cautiously, Sanya sat down on a rock not far from the one the girl was sitting on, joining her in her silent admiration of the ocean. 

“You know, I did lose someone”, she started, waking the child’s attention, “many years ago. His name was Joško, he was the love of my life.”

She felt the need to have the girl know about her grief. Sanya usually avoided talking about her late husband, too vivid were her feelings still, too gaping his absence. However, with the girl, talking about him didn’t seem like a confession, but rather like a relief. Finally, here was someone who understood, out of a good-willed, innocent point of view, what grief did to a person. Here was someone who loved, just like her, and though the love appeared to be different, it was, fundamentally, the same kind. 

The two of them took turns telling anecdotes, letting old memories come to life one more time before they vanished again into the depths of their minds, only for them to resurface once in a while, like waves bringing up pretty seashells on the beach. In a way, Sanya recognised a little of herself in the girl, and it comforted her, for it meant she wouldn’t ever be alone. There, somewhere on the peninsula, was another person waiting to give the love that had been stored up beneath the sorrow, and there would be hundreds, thousands of souls out there who felt the same way. Perhaps, one day they would be able to step out into the sun.

At some point, the girl crammed in the backpack she had brought with her. When she faced Sanya again, in her hands she held two pieces of white paper, one of which she handed to the elder woman. “Do you know how to fold it into a boat?”, the girl asked, smiling timidly.

Sanya nodded contently. Together, they folded the pieces of paper into small boats, and when they were done, the girl pointed at the sea and asked Sanya to follow her. When they reached the shore, the water calmly dazing beneath their feet, they carefully placed the paper boats on the water and let the serene current take them away. As they stood there, watching the paper boats drift off further and further, Sanya’s heart began to feel lighter. It wasn’t just the boat that slowly floated away from the shore – it was, more essentially, the grief that finally, and steadily, elevated from her soul.